


Crash and Burn

by ravenpuff1956



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Car Accidents, Character Death, Depression, F/M, Ghost Tina, Heavy Angst, POV Tina Goldstein, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28845297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenpuff1956/pseuds/ravenpuff1956
Summary: In hindsight, it was a stupid argument.But at the time it felt like the biggest thing in the world.And it was- until Tina got in the car.
Relationships: Leta Lestrange/Theseus Scamander, Tina Goldstein/Newt Scamander
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	Crash and Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I was in a car accident recently, and it's hit me rather hard. So here's a fic to get out my feelings about it.
> 
> Like usual, angst, pain, the works. Vaguely based on If I Stay. 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys

In hindsight, it was a stupid argument. 

But at the time it felt like the biggest thing in the world.

\--------------------------------------------------

Tina slips off her golden heels and throws them into a hall. Another benefit ball. Another chance for embarrassment. 

And worst of all an offer that her husband eagerly took, without even asking for her opinion. 

“Tina calm down,” Newt sighs tiredly, shrugging off his dark coat.

Tina shoots him a glare from where she’s stalking around their dining table. It’s still the same bachelor apartment as it was when she first saw it, and it's been five years since. Tina’s not exactly a decorator. The most feminine products she’s added is her sanitary pads in the bathroom. 

Another reason why she’s just  _ not  _ cut out of this. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll just uproot my entire life _happily_ ,” Tina spits, looking round for a wine glass. She’s already had far too many tonight, but what’s the harm of another one? 

“It’s not uprooting  _ our _ entire life,” Newt says, frustration soaking his tone as she rustles round in the fridge for the red, “It’s just a house,” He plops himself down in a chair in a huff. 

“A  _ house _ ,” Tina says sarcastically, pouring her wine a bit too hard, so some droplets splatter on the table top. 

“A manor then,” Newt corrects himself diplomatically, his cheeks pink. 

“A freaking palace,” Tina corrects him, shuddering at the memory of ‘Scamander House’. 

Thousands of windows, acres of land. Three house elves, two kitchens, not to mention the dozens of staff members that will be under her control. 

“I really don’t understand why you’re getting so upset about this,” Newt shakes his head, undoing his bowtie harshly. 

Tina raises an eyebrow at him. Does he really think that  _ they _ are the people that should be the next Lord and Lady of the house? 

“Of course you don’t,” Tina scoffs, remembering the sad and lonely hall of her childhood; the small rickety bed of the orphanage, “It’s where you grew up,”

“Is it the fact that I’ve inherited it?” Newt also begins to raise his voice, sounding stung, “Would you feel better about it if I bought it off my parents? Because I could, I have enough gold,”

Tina laughs meanly. She couldn’t be prouder of Newt’s success. But the fact that he has millions in the bank, doesn’t change the fact that her own personal money is barely a couple of dragots. 

She could never afford her glittery gold dress, custom made to fit her body without him. Not in months. Maybe even years. 

Tina has been the struggling bread winner for years. And the casual way they can now flaunt their money is sometimes amazing, but sometimes terrible. 

“ _ You _ have enough gold,” Tina tells him bitterly. Newt throws up his hands, before threading them through his hair, clearly upset. 

“Well I do Tina,” Newt stresses, his foot tapping on the floorboards, “ _ We _ do,”

Tina takes a deep sip of wine, her pulse pumping in her neck. 

“It’s not just the house,” Tina shakes her head, her hands trembling around her glass stem, “It’s what they’re going to expect from us Newt,”

“What is anyone going to expect?” Newt rolls his eyes, carefree as always. 

“I’ve never going to Lady of the Manor,” Tina’s voice trembles as she speaks, struggling to picture cutting herself in his mothers mold; a sweet, amiable, graceful women, who never lets the side down, “I’m never going to host parties, or hold balls, or, I don’t know, send our children off with a nanny and only see them for an hour each week,”

Newt’s looking at her like she’s crazy. And maybe she is a little. But Tina’s so angry, so anxious, she can’t even think. 

“That’s not what is going to happen,”

“But that’s what everyone is going to  _ expect _ to happen, Newt!” Tina slams her hand down on the kitchen bench, making it tremble, “Just because _you_ don’t care about society’s gaze, doesn’t mean _I’m_ not going to feel their eye!”

Newt scoffs, looking away. Tina can see the tense line in his neck. She wants to kiss it. But she also kind of wants to snap it. 

“I don’t want to move,” Tina tells him seriously, harshly. 

“Can you think just for a moment of what this is like for me Tina?” Newt swings himself up from his seat, his eyes flashing with tears, “I’m the estranged second son, to be gifted this- this is a massive honor for me,” 

Tina stares up at the ceiling, willing herself to not say what she’s thinking. That sometimes she wishes he was always the estranged second son. That she would love him whenever, whatever. 

But she doesn’t want to lose herself in becoming someone she’s not just so she can be the perfect Mrs Scamander. 

“We would have never even been offered it if Theseus hadn’t had stepped down and Leta hadn’t,”  _ Died. _ Newt cuts himself off, but the words ring round the room.

Guilt burns in Tina’s gut, and she pushes it away as best she can, hating that he’s making her feel ashamed for her feelings. 

“So I’m being the dick here?” Tina asks, her voice breaking as she strains, “I should be thankful for being forced into a role that I’ve _never_ wanted?”

“No of course not,” Newt says roughly, his lips white. 

“You’ve never wanted this either Newt!” Tina shouts, her emotions reaching a crescendo, “I don’t understand you!”

“Well at the moment, it’s mutual!” Newt bellows, his nostrils flaring. 

The married couple take a couple of heated breaths. Tina pinches the bridge of her nose, and tries to still her beating heart. Newt is gripping his chair like it’s a lifeline. 

Normally this would be when she would comfort him. Or he would comfort her. 

But the injustice still kicks on in Tina’s gut, and she can tell by the hurt in Newt’s eyes that he’s not up for forgiving her either. 

“I need to get out of here,” Tina says, downing the rest of her glass, and summoning a pair of flat shoes. 

“It’s late Tina,” Newt tells her as she struggles to get them round her heel, “You’ve been drinking,” 

“I don’t care,” Tina says, the words going in one ear and out the other. Like he’s not going to go into his basement and throw shit around. She needs to do something to get this out. 

“Fine,” Newt says forcefully, clenching his fists together. 

“Fine,” Tina says stubbornly, before leaving him alone. 

Tina storms to the front door, wrapping a dark coat around her flashy dress. She’s left her wand in the kitchen, but she has too much pride to go get it. Instead she scrapes up the car keys. 

Another present from Lord and Lady Scamander, and all the range, straight off the boats from America. Tina’s only just learned how to drive; but she longs for the wind in her hair and the power that comes from travelling faster and faster all with the push of a pedal. 

It seems to be the perfect thing to get her anger out. 

It’s a shiny, grey contraption, with an open top and leather seats. Tina doesn’t know what they’re going to do when it rains. They park it out on the street. A repelling curse perhaps. But the no-maj’s are sure to notice the droplets falling to the ground, leaving the car dry and intact. 

She swings the door open far, too hard, and turns on the ignition. The engine growls and Tina's stomach burns in satisfaction. It feels like the machine is angry with her, sharing her fury. 

Tina looks briefly into the rear view mirror before turning off and into the night. The wind roars in her ears, and she takes great gulps of it, her hair flying out of her fancy updo. 

How dare he? Surely Newt can understand that she fits into upper-class British society even less than he does. 

Lord and Lady Scamander are nice people. Very nice, if she’s honest. Tina was frankly terrified, but they have accepted her with open arms. 

But still she can’t shake the feeling of not being good enough. 

Tina doesn’t know what earrings to wear in the day compared with dinner. She didn’t visit any fashion houses in Paris. She’s never come out into society a dainty white dress, let alone know what fork to eat with while eating fish. 

She swerves onto the main road, her fingertips tapping loudly on the wheel. A couple of cars are out and around, and Tina can hear drunken laughter through their windows as they drive past. 

Lady Scamander sweetly talks her through it, but Tina can feel the rest of the ‘Tons’ judgement burn into her.

It doesn’t help that all her stories about Leta sound so fucking perfect. Basically French Wizarding royalty, Leta Lestrange had every small intricacy down to a tea. A sad yet, graceful witch that Lady Scamander clearly misses. 

Meanwhile Tina feels like a toddler, tripping over her feet. Bad at what she’s supposed to be good at, and good at what’s terrible. 

A couple lean out from the sidewalk, clearly deciding whether or not it’s safe to cross. Tears prick at Tina’s eyelashes and she barely sees them as she flies past. 

Is she the problem? Should she have come down so hard on Newt one something that is really based on her own stupid insecurities?

Tina looks down at her wedding ring. It was the happiest day of her life when she married Newt. They swore to always love each other and never to hurt each other… 

They could work it out. Newt would never expect her to be the Lady she’s trying so desperately to be. But she would still prefer not to live in the mansion his parents have set up for them

There has to be some kind of middle ground.

“I need apologize,” Tina mumbles to herself, her eyes still caught on the simple gold band that Newt tucked on her finger. 

“Oi!” A frightened voice calls out. 

Tina looks up just in time to see a man walking with his small girl almost flush against her bonnet. As quick as a flash Tina yanks the wheel aside, not bothering to look in the other direction. 

There’s a crunch of steel, a shout that Tina thinks might be her own, and then nothing. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Tina’s head aches. She opens her eyes carefully. It’s still dark, the stars shining around her. 

She tries to sit up. Tina’s ribs are aching. A street lamp flickers above her, and the smell of oil fills the air. 

Her car is wrapped around a bakery truck. The grey metal flaking like one of Jacob’s pastries. A group of bystanders has gathered round the scene, some angry, some crying. A man is throwing up across from her, the retching sound turning Tina’s stomach. 

Tina gets gingerly to her feet. She vaguely recognises him as the Father she almost hit. 

“Are you okay?” She asks, patting his back as some greenish bile leaves him. 

He man doesn’t reply, and carries on retching. 

Tina makes a sympathetic noise, but leaves him be, stumbling over to the crash. It would be illegal, but if anyone’s hurt she will be willing to use magic to help them out of there. 

“I just didn’t see her,” A bearded man is wringing his hands. A large red scratch bleeds on his forehead, but otherwise he seems unhurt, if shaky. 

“It’s not your fault,” A woman rubs his shoulder, looking pale. 

They all seem to be standing around a body, laying lifeless on the road.

‘ _Someone died_ ,’ Tina realises with a jolt, her pulse racing. 

“We’ll have to call the coppers,” A man with a rough cockney accent barks, “Get someone to identify her,”

‘ _Don’t tell me it’s the child_ ,’ Tina thinks to herself, as she pushes her way through the crowd, her stomach clenching with guilt. 

But it’s not.

It’s _her_.

Spread out of the wet concrete. Her dress is mused around her. Blood soaks through her golden material stretched across her stomach, and her left leg is cocked at an unnatural position.

Tina stumbles, using the woman as someone to lean against to keep her from falling. The blonde lady doesn’t even seem to notice her hanging off her, as she dabs a hanky against her cheek. 

“What?” Tina croaks, confused tears blinking at her eyelids, “What is this?” 

She leans down to touch herself. Her body is stiff and cold. Her lips are slowly turning blue. Tina leans her ear to her chest, one hand on her stomach. Her blood is sticky and luke warm. 

She can’t hear a heartbeat. 

“Oh,” Tina throws herself backwards, “Oh my god,”

She quickly pats down herself. Her own dress is intact. Her leg isn’t broken. She’s not in any serious pain. Tina’s wedding ring hasn’t fallen from her finger. 

And yet… 

“She’s so young,” The baker laments sadly, pressing a hand to his bleeding forehead. 

“I’m dead,” Tina realizes blankly, her breath coming thick and fast through her nose. She can’t take her eyes off herself, willing her other body to move. To cough. To open her eyes.

But she doesn’t. And soon the sirens come. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


End file.
